


The Notes You Play

by kams_log



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cute Castiel, Cute Dean, Dean-Centric, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, POV Sam, Pianist Dean, Sam Knows, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 23:05:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4411370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kams_log/pseuds/kams_log
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam almost didn’t notice at first. It was subtle, tiny things that were mentioned in passing, things that couldn’t be accounted for but passed so quickly it was forgotten moments later.</p><p>“I’ve always wondered,” Castiel said idly, as though they weren’t on a case, “how people have made so many different kinds of music from one instrument. It’s beautiful.” </p><p>“Chopin’s Nocturne,” Dean abruptly replied, without preamble. Sam didn’t have a moment to figure out what that meant before Dean covered it up and continued, “Cas, stop messing with the victim’s stuff. Are you even scanning the thing?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Notes You Play

Sam almost didn’t notice at first. It was subtle, tiny things that were mentioned in passing, things that couldn’t be accounted for but passed so quickly it was forgotten moments later.

But after enough times, Sam started to notice.

The first time they were working a case in Vermont. It was cold, Dean was snippy and ready to head out fast. Castiel was there too, now human and accompanying them as a hunter. He didn’t say much, but Sam was grateful for his presence. Something about him kept Dean less whiny and a little more complacent.

The victim was a musician. She played every instrument available, and her home was filled with two pianos, two guitars, and at least a dozen other musical equipment and items. Sam was impressed.

Castiel was also intrigued as Dean wandered through the rooms with the EMF. He rested his hand along the baby grand and pressed down a note, one Sam couldn’t identify. He’d never gotten into music as a child. He was more into soccer, literature, and how to keep his family alive and mostly together.

“I’ve always wondered,” Castiel said idly, as though they weren’t on a case, “how people have made so many different kinds of music from one instrument. It’s beautiful.”

“Chopin’s Nocturne,” Dean abruptly replied, without preamble. Sam didn’t have a moment to figure out what that meant before Dean covered it up and continued, “Cas, stop messing with the victim’s stuff. Are you even _scanning_ the thing?”

Sam forgot about it a minute later when the EMF went off by the base. Turned out she was being haunted be a dead, vengeful boyfriend.

They wrapped up the case without any trouble, and Sam didn’t think about it again until they were sleeping in a motel just outside out town, Dean and Cas sharing a room while Sam stayed up alone.

That was when it suddenly occurred to him. Dean referenced Chopin. Sam wasn’t a musical person, and he was ashamed to say he had to do a quick google search to be sure.

But Dean knew music. He knew it well enough to reference artists without giving a second thought. But he also covered it up.

Sam started paying more attention after that night.

...

The second time was, again, during a case. Sam wasn’t sure if he did it _awarely_ , but he managed to find the next case with an orchestra. Four of the members had already been gutted and torn apart, bodies hidden in a ditch outside of the city.

They’d determined it was probably some kind of shifter, and Sam was starting to lose hope of getting anything out of Dean again. He was ready to give up after they killed the monster and were packing up to go, when once again, Castiel was the one to draw new words out of Dean’s lips.

“The orchestra is still playing their premiere tonight,” Castiel said.

Neither of the Winchester’s had to think hard to figure out what Castiel was asking for. But Sam didn’t know the reasoning for it. It was just an orchestra. Did he even remember what they were playing tonight? Did they even have programs for these kinds of events?

“They’re playing Debussy and Rossini,” Dean replied, not missing a beat as he rolled up his shirts and stuffed them in his duffle. “Honestly Cas, there are better things.”

Sam could only stare slack jawed, but Castiel narrowed his gaze in that way that probably looked like Sam’s ‘puppy face’ as Dean called it. Dean glanced up at him, blushed, and Sam knew he was sunk. As usual.

“We’ll probably make it in time for the intro,” Dean grumbled. “Zip up your bags. I’m not coming back here to grab our things.”

They spent the next hour and a half listening to the orchestra play. They were good, and Sam couldn’t say he didn’t like it. He glanced over at Dean, and could tell his brother was trying very hard to look disinterested.

But Dean’s features were soft, and even though his head was resting on his hand, his foot was tapping along to the beats in perfect time. During the high notes and the pounding rhythms of what Castiel informed him was Rossini, Dean’s fingers flew and tapped across his thigh.

Castiel’s hand also covered Dean’s about halfway through Debussy. Nobody mentioned it. Sam pretended he couldn’t see Dean’s blush under the low lighting.

...

The next time Sam was sure Dean knew about music. He knew multiple artists by name without missing a beat. He had an incredible sense of rhythm that had to be more than just head banging to rock and roll music all his life.

Sam was determined to get to the bottom of it. His brother listened to Metallica like it was his religion. How did he know people like Debussy and Rossini, or Chopin’s Nocturne. How did Dean, _his brother Dean_ , know all those things and Sam didn’t?

Sam was determined as he stared down at the piano he’d found in the basement of the bunker. There were a few stray music sheets scattered across the top of the ancient baby grand. Sam had no idea if it was even still in tune. But he collected the music and brought it upstairs, finding his brother and Cas sitting close together on the sofa.

They were doing that a lot these days. Sam didn’t mind though. Dean always seemed happier, the closer he was to Cas.

But he was on a mission, and this time, he didn’t mind interrupting as he handed off the music sheets into Dean’s hands.

“Guess what I found in the basement?” Sam asked, hoping Dean might respond well.

Dean stared at the music sheets but didn’t respond. Castiel glanced at them and smiled.

“Is there a piano here?” Castiel asked curiously, eyes bright with intrigue.

“Yeah. I’m not sure if it’s still in tune, but it’s an old baby grand. I wish I could play,” Sam sighed, not failing to notice the way Dean’s eyes snapped up to his. “But I don’t know the first thing about pianos or how to play. Maybe someday it’ll get use again, though.”

“Yeah,” Dean muttered, almost silent. “Maybe.”

...

That night, Sam didn’t sleep. He sat up on his bed and waited. He wasn’t sure what he was waiting for, but he knew it was important.  
It was several hours before he heard it, the light footsteps moving down the hallway that could only belong to Dean.

Sam waited a few minutes before he stood, and then followed the sound of his brother through the halls and down the stairs. He was surprised by what he found.

Dean had opened up the top of the piano, and he was staring at it as he pressed keys at random. He seemed to be listening to the sound, gauging how much work it needed or if it was still fit to play. He stayed for maybe an hour, going over the mechanics of the piano, before he finally finished and got up to leave.

Sam was quick to get away to his room before Dean saw him.

But Sam already had another fact to store away in his mind.

Dean could tune a piano.

...

Dean continued to go down to the basement every night. He tuned the piano, playing soft little tunes as he figured it out, put it back together until it was nearly good as new again.

They had a few more cases before Sam knew Dean was finished. He stopped going in the basement, and there was still no conversation about the instrument’s existence or it’s newly enhanced abilities. But Sam knew, and he remained silent. He could only hope that Dean would say something whenever he was ready.

And then, as Sam should have expected, it was Castiel to break the long silence on the piano.

“I haven’t seen the piano,” he said over breakfast. “Sam, have you figured out if it still plays?”

Sam choked on his eggs, but Dean rescued him unknowingly.

“Sounds fine to me,” he replied, biting into a mound of pancakes and syrup. “I’ll show ya’ later, Cas.”

Sam kept his eyes down and said nothing about it.

A few hours later, Sam finally realized that his brother and Castiel had disappeared. It took him one guess to figure out where they were.

Dean was playing the piano when he found them.

Beautiful notes filled the air, and Sam glanced through the cracked doorway to see Dean and Cas huddled on the small black bench, Dean’s arms bowing over the keys in grace like they were always meant to be there.

Castiel was staring at Dean like he was busy hanging the moon, and Sam could understand what his friend was feeling.

It was the same look on Sam’s face when Jess talked about and showed him _her_ hobbies.

Dean’s fingers stilled after several minutes of playing, his shoulders shaking in nervousness, possibly anxiety, of what Castiel must think. But Sam stared, wide eyed, as Castiel smiled and leaned over, kissing Dean on the cheek before guiding Dean’s fingers across the keys.

“Show me how,” Castiel said softly, barely heard.

“Okay,” Dean replied, just as gentle.

Castiel leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder as they played together. Sam closed the door completely and left them to their music.

**Author's Note:**

> me: lovefromdean.tumblr.com
> 
> fic inspired by this picture: 
> 
> http://41.media.tumblr.com/2e4dae93d4f389ddfd054e5f9017dc96/tumblr_np11v8E0PY1s2e01ao1_1280.jpg


End file.
